Uh oh…busted again.
Mom was talking to Aunt Sara when I was dropped off this afternoon. They were talking about ME.
“Gracie’s usually good,” Aunt Sara said. “But when you drop your guard for even a minute, she’ll try something.”
“Exactly,” my mom said. “Sometimes when we are walking along, she’ll stop suddenly. She’ll get that look like, ‘Why are you making me go on?'”
True. We have two kinds of walks. Sometimes we go on a real walk where I get exercise and Mom does her errands. But often these days I get a mini-walk so I can do my business before my mom stuffs me in my crate and goes off on her own outings.
“I think Gracie knows,” the mom said, “because I fill up her crate’s water dish just before we go on our walk. She’s a very smart dog. When we come home, she doesn’t want to go inside. People feel so sorry for her. It’s like, ‘Poor thing. She doesn’t want to go in.'”
“I know just what you mean,” my Aunt Sara said. “Gracie does a good pout. You’d think we were beating her.”
“Yeah, and she’s spoiled rotten,” the mom said. “Uh oh – what was that? Gracie, are you eating the cat food? I’d better go pick it up. See you next time.”
Okay, okay. I just decided we needed a distraction from all this talk about spoiled dogs. Now I’ll move on to my nap.